


akakuro week drabbles

by drunkonwriting



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble, Gen, akakuroweek2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkonwriting/pseuds/drunkonwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a place to post all my akakuro week 2015 drabbles in one spot. </p><p><b>day 1:</b> in a universe where kuroko graduates two years before the miracles take the court, seirin and teikou have a practice match. (teikou!akashi + seirin!kuroko & rivalry prompt)<br/><b>day 2:</b> kuroko makes the trip out to rakuzan to talk to akashi about the one thing he truly wants for his birthday. set after the winter cup, features cameos of the rakuzan team.<br/><b>day 3:</b> tetsuya meets akashi on the street courts as a kid instead of ogiwara.<br/><b>day 4:</b> after the winter cup, akashi falls into depression. kuroko’s the only one who can get him out of it.<br/><b>day 5:</b> ‘you slipped on a patch of ice and i happened to be walking behind you and you fell into my arms and wow you’re really attractive’ au.<br/><b>day 6:</b> "I thought only idiots got summer colds?"<br/><b>day 7:</b> the obligatory hp!au where everyone plays quidditch instead of basketball. tetsuya’s life is pretty normal for someone who attends a magic school - until akashi seijuurou takes notice of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. don't stop me now

**Author's Note:**

> i'm doing at least some of the akakuro week stuff, so i thought i'd put all the drabbles i do for it in one nice neat place. most of this stuff is written up in 30 min or less, so it's probably pretty shitty, but enjoy all the same! cross-posted on my anime tumblr.
> 
> this first one actually ended up more about the genmira + kuroko but w/e w/e. my headcanon for this is that kuroko is like two years older than the miracles, quits the basketball team in his first year, only to be accidentally discovered by riko's dad on the street courts in his third year. riko's dad then proceeds to train him & he starts up the seirin team with hyuuga and kiyoshi and riko in his first year at seirin. timeline for this fic is after teikou's second championship & after akashi develops the emperor eye.

“–worried about them, Aida. There’s no denying they’re talented, but their team play is atrocious.”

“They each play on their own, you said?”

“Aa. There are some games where they barely even pass to each other, let alone coordinate! It’s winning games, but I can’t help but feel like… something’s missing.”

A long pause. “Hold a practice match with my team, Sanada.”

“… Aren’t you retired?”

“My daughter’s coaching her high school team. She asks me to help out sometimes, when the players need it–and I have to say, they’re a very interesting team. Almost exactly the opposite of Teikou in every way.”

“ _High schoolers_? I know they’re good, but the first string–”

“Listen. In my experience, the only way to keep talented players from going off on their own is to remind them that they’re human and they can lose–that the match is anybody’s guess, no matter how talented or quick or good you are. Nobody knows until the final buzzer. If you really want to help those kids, have a practice match with my team. If anybody can teach them, it’s them.”

A long pause. “Alright. What’s the name of the school?”

“Seirin High School.”

* * *

 

Seijuurou doesn’t see the point in paying attention to high school teams until they’re in their third year and picking which schools to attend after graduation–after all, most of the high school teams will have changed enough by then that keeping an eye on them now is almost pointless. Most of his team shares his view, except for Shintarou, which is why they all turn to him when Sanada-sensei announces that they’ll be hosting Seirin High School for a practice game one afternoon. For once, they are all actually  _at_  practice, mostly due to Sanada’s request.

“I’ve never heard of them,” Shintarou says, brow furrowing. “They must be new.”

“They must be weak, if they’re having a practice game with middle schoolers,” Daiki says, contemptuous. 

“Even middle schoolers like us?” Atsushi asks.

“You see any other high schoolers lining up to play us?” Daiki demands. “They’re probably losers.”

“You all will treat them with respect as your senpais,” Sanada says and they all startle a little bit from the force in his voice–most of the time, Sanada is firm, but soft-spoken. “They are doing us a favor by playing this game with us and they are a team watched over by a good friend of mine.” He surveys them. “The match will be tomorrow afternoon, during normal practice. I expect all of you to be there–including you, Aomine-kun.”

“I’ll make sure he’s there,” Satsuki promises from Sanada’s shoulder, her own sweet smile at odds with the deadly way she says this. 

Sanada leaves them to their own devices after that and Seijuurou muses on the news on his way back home. A high school team, huh? He supposes it will do some good to see how they match up to older opponents, though he knows they will not lose.

Seijuurou’s will is absolute, after all.

* * *

Seijuurou arrives early the next afternoon, and so is the only one to witness Seirin’s arrival. They come in as a large, chatting group, and Seijuurou watches from a shadowed part of the gym, assessing. Only a few players with any real height to challenge Atsushi–the rest of them are middling to short, even for high schoolers. They are all clearly comfortable with each other, moving around each other in the way of well-oiled teams. Still, he can’t get the sense that any of them are particularly formidable or dangerous. Perhaps Daiki was right?

He steps forward as they approach. Some of them startle, but most of them are remarkably calm about his sudden appearance. 

“Akashi Seijuurou,” he says, inclining his head. “Captain of Teikou. Please take good care of us.”

Seirin’s members all exchange glances, speaking without words. Then, after a long pause–

“I am Kuroko Tetsuya, Seirin’s captain.”

Seijuurou doesn’t jump out of sheer will. He turns sharply to his right instead, to meet the calm blue eyes of a boy he could’ve sworn hadn’t been there two seconds again. He notes, from the corner of his eyes, the way some of the Seirin members suppress smiles, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

He takes in Seirin’s captain with a long, hard stare. For a high schooler (and a basketball player), he’s remarkably short–just even with Seijuurou himself, despite being at least a few years older. His face is as calm and even as an iced over lake, revealing nothing of his thoughts or emotions. Like the others, he wears loose athletic clothing underneath his Seirin jersey. 

Seijuurou inclines his head. “Nice to meet you,” he says, as cold and polite as he can. “Thank you for agreeing to the match.”

Kuroko’s face doesn’t even twitch. “Aida-sensei requested we play,” he says. “Though I am interested to see your team in action, Akashi-kun.”

Seijuurou’s mouth twitches down–that’s familiar, for a first meeting. Before he can say anything else, the rest of his team crashes into the gym, being their usual loud, idiotic selves. Ryouta and Daiki are arguing about something, with Atsushi and Shintarou trailing behind. All of them stop once they see Seirin is there.

“Ah, our opponents!” Ryouta says, bounding up to them and beaming. Seijuurou notes who relaxes and who doesn’t–Ryouta’s charm isn’t all fake, but it is a useful tool. “Kise Ryouta, pleased to meet you!”

Shintarou introduces himself as well, and Seijuurou steps in for Atsushi, who clearly doesn’t feel much like talking. Daiki regards the team for a long moment and then huffs.

“Are you really a high school team?” he asks. “You don’t seem all that great to me.”

There’s a long, tense pause.

“Middle school students who haven’t even graduated should speak with more respect,” Kuroko says. 

Seijuurou nearly startles again, and his team  _does_  spook–Ryouta with a yelp, Shintarou and Atsushi by flinching, and Daiki by whirling around and nearly hitting Kuroko in the face. Kuroko looks unfazed, but Seijuurou is seething. How did he manage to forget Kuroko already? Does he really have so little presence? 

That could be a problem on the court.

“Who the hell’re you?” Daiki demands. 

Kuroko gives him a long look, but it’s one of the team who answers–a tall, broad-shoulder red-haired boy with thick eyebrows and a look that immediately reminds Seijuurou of Daiki.

“He’s our captain!” the red-head shouts. “Show him a little more respect!”

Kuroko, without ever showing a single emotion, reaches over and jabs the red-head hard in the gut. The red-head doubles over from the blow, gasping, as they all look in with surprise.

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko says, as serene as if he’s having a day in the park. “After all, didn’t you just call me a bastard not five minutes ago?”

“Kuroko-senpai, you–!”

Sanada-sensei shows up then and the spectacle is broken apart. They go their separate ways to change and warm-up, but Seijuurou’s mind lingers on Kuroko even as they part ways. That ability to disappear, the calm command he took of his own teammate…

Perhaps this game will be interesting after all.

* * *

None of his team are particularly enthused about their enforced practice match, though Daiki and Ryouta do make their usual bet about scoring the most points. 

“They’re a relatively new team,” Satsuki says before they line, up, tapping her pencil to the corner of her mouth. “They formed only two years ago, under the direction of Kuroko-kun and the vice-captain shoot, Hyuuga-kun. They made it into the semi-finals of Inter-High their first year, but were tapped out by Kirisaki Daiichi. Their big center with the brown hair–that’s Kiyoshi Teppei. He was injured during that game, but he seems to have returned back in good health.” She surveys them all. “Their play, from what I can see, is reliant on Hyuuga-kun’s outside shooting and Kiyoshi-kun’s defense of the inside. However, I have heard rumors that Kagami-kun, their first year power forward, is very good, but they have yet to play him in any matches.”

“Very good, Satsuki,” Seijuurou says. They don’t sound like a particularly impressive team–Teikou’s run up against that kind of strategy before. They use it themselves; with Shintarou on the outside and Atsushi under the net. “Focus your plays on Hyuuga-kun and Kiyoshi-kun. If they play the first-year, he’ll be yours, Daiki.” Daiki looks less than enthused, but he does nod.

They shrug and nod and go to line up. It isn’t until Seijuurou’s standing at the end to shake hands before the tip-off that he realizes that Kuroko is still on the bench. He narrows his eyes at Hyuuga, who doesn’t have Kuroko’s iron calm, but hardly looks flustered. It’s true that teams don’t always play their captains right away in a match, but it seems odd that Kuroko would sit it out. Are they looking down on Teikou? 

Seijuurou will show them the mistake they’ve made, if they are.

Kiyoshi and Atsushi go head-to-head for the tip-off–predictably, Atsushi grabs the ball and within moments, it’s in Shintarou’s hands and arcing gracefully into the net. Overall, it takes less than twenty seconds. Seijuurou smiles and, without realizing it, turns to the bench where Kuroko sits.

His pleasure at the assurance of their victory is tarnished by the absolute calm of Kuroko. He doesn’t even look surprised or dismayed by the quick turn-around. In fact, none of Seirin do. Even teams Teikou’s fought against before don’t show such self-control in the face of the knowledge of their absolute defeat.

In the back of Seijuurou’s mind, there is a tiny sense of disturbance.

The game continues. Seirin has a strong defense and good offense, but even with the difference in their ages, Teikou is just better all-around. They continue to score points, though Seirin keeps a dogged chase. Seijuurou keeps to the outskirts of the fray, content to watch and pass as his team annihilates the competition. Between Daiki and Ryouta’s aggressive play, Atsushi’s defense, and Shintarou’s three-pointers, they’re ahead by a twenty-point margin by the end of the first quarter.

During the two-minute break, Seijuurou looks again to Kuroko, only to find him calmly discussing something with his team. They all look focused, but not despairing. Seijuurou bites the inside of his cheek and decides that they must need a harder lesson in order to learn. He can’t have them walking away from this game thinking that Seijuurou and his team are anything other than absolute, after all.

The second quarter begins with a substitution–Kagami, who had spent the first quarter sitting on the bench next to Kuroko, steps in for Mitobe.  Seijuurou turns his focus on him and finds someone remarkably similar to Daiki–perhaps even in strength?

The second quarter also brings in what must be the finished form of Seirin’s basketball; a fast-break run-and-gun style with Kagami on point. Kagami is better than most of his teammates, that much becomes immediately clear–fast on his feet, limber and flexible, with strength enough to knock even Atsushi’s hand aside. 

Daiki keeps up, for the most part, and Seijuurou watches, a little surprised, as Daiki starts to focus more than he has in a game for over a year. By the end of the second quarter, with Seirin just barely in the lead, he even begins to smile. 

The first half ends with Teikou in the lead again, but the point-margin is significantly less. Seijuurou frowns at the board. They be high school students, but that shouldn’t matter–the win is theirs, as it always has been and always should be. Seirin is just an irritant. In the second half, they’ll fall prey to their own weakness, as all the teams Teikou’s faced before has. 

Their ten-minute break is oddly silent. Ryouta and Daiki exchange long looks but don’t speak, Atsushi sits down hard on a bench and, for once, doesn’t eat, and Shintarou spends most of his time looking up what can only be the Oha-Asa readings. Seijuurou, who listens to it mostly because he knows how much stock Shintarou puts into it, knows that Cancer is in fifth today. Who was first again? Aquarius, he thinks. Or Leo. One or the other.

Not that it matters. 

Though they don’t speak, Seijuurou finds that his team’s focus as they come back to the second half of the match is better, and that shows as they begin the third quarter with a consecutive five baskets, all of them three-pointers, widening their gap. Seirin continues with their run-and-gun strategy, hard on their heels, but Shintarou is simply too good; as soon as the ball is in his hands, they’ve got another three points, and Atsushi keeps them from scoring so easily.

But still, Seirin never bows their heads in defeat, as so many teams before them has done. Kagami still makes impossible jumps and plays, seemingly growing in the middle of the match; Hyuuga’s shots are every bit as precise as Shintarou’s even though he has a harder target, and Kiyoshi continues to be an irritant under the basket. Seijuurou can admit that they are a formidable team–for someone else. 

The third quarter ends with a twenty-five point difference, something almost impossible to change in the space of ten minutes. Seijuurou’s almost relaxed now, for their victory is surely in sight, when–

Kuroko Tetsuya steps off the bench.

Seirin’s mood changes instantly. Even with their calm, their frustration had clearly been mounting with every basket made by Teikou. Now, with Kuroko stepping in for Koganei, they all are visibly relaxing. Something about Kuroko coming in puts them at ease, makes them feel better.

Seijuurou will use that lapse to crush them.

It isn’t until they’re setting up to play again that he catches a good look at Kuroko and gives pause. Before, covered by his jacket, it had been hard to tell, but Kuroko’s arms have the same fine muscle definition that Shintarou’s do, the kind that comes from continually using them to shoot. Indeed, though Kuroko is smaller and more compact than all his teammates, he is finely muscled all over in the way only players with constant practice and exercise can maintain. Unlike his kouhai Kagami, who has a breadth and width that says he will be a towering menace someday, Kuroko is lean and taunt as a whip. There are no cracks in the calm of his eyes, even as Seijuurou settles across from him to mark him. 

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko says in the breath before they begin. “Why do you think we play basketball?”

Before Seijuurou can answer, Kuroko disappears from his sight.

Seijuurou whirls around half on instinct, trying to track Kuroko with his Emperor Eye, but by the time he can, Kuroko is already halfway down the court, coordinating a play with Kagami that leads into a alley-op slam-dunk. Without pause, Kuroko and the others make their way back to their places–Kuroko, perhaps sensing Seijuurou’s eyes on him, turns to give him a long look. 

Seijuurou marks him again, wary. The disturbance in the back of his mind grows larger. That shouldn’t have been possible. His eye is absolute, so how did Kuroko escape it, how–?

“We play basketball to win,” Seijuurou says when he’s sure Kuroko will hear him.

Kuroko’s gaze is like the cut of a knife. Seijuurou almost flinches back from it. “Yes,” he says. “But is that all?”

And he disappears again.

Seijuurou follows, but he’s a step too far behind. Kuroko, though, doesn’t do more than re-direct a pass on impossible angles that it arches away from Daiki’s outstretched palm and into Hyuuga’s. Hyuuga, taking advantage of their momentary confusion, sinks the shot before Atsushi has a chance to react.

Seijuurou’s fury builds with every successful escape. Kuroko shouldn’t be able to do this. His eye is absolute, it’s  _absolute_ , and yet Kuroko slips away from it time and time again, redirecting passes and coordinating with all of his teammates to make stunning baskets. He even once shoots himself–a shot that _vanishes_  mid-air. 

Seijuurou knew a long time ago that he and the others were extraordinary. Their rate of growth, their ability, was all beyond what anyone else could do. Now, watching their point lead shrink and shrink due to the actions of one player, he realizes that there might be other miracles out there too. 

Seirin wins with a two-point difference. Kuroko is the one to sink the buzzer beater in the last seconds, his shot vanishing and dropping beautifully into the net behind Atsushi’s outstretched fingers.

* * *

“We lost,” Ryouta says in the locker room, after, shell-shocked.

Seijuurou feels as though his entire body is submerged in ice. Daiki hasn’t moved from his position since he sat down after the game and Atsushi disappeared almost immediately afterward. Shintarou wraps and rewraps his fingers, obviously flummoxed.

They’re all still sitting there, in utter silence, when there’s a quiet knock and the door opens to reveal Kuroko. Seeing him, Seijuurou is bowled over by a rage so fierce it melts the ice in his soul and he makes for a punch before he even realizes what his body is doing. It’s caught before it can reach Kuroko’s face, though by Kagami, who’d been standing off behind Kuroko’s shoulder, instead of Kuroko.

“Don’t touch him,” Kagami says, hand tight around Seijuurou’s wrist. “How dare you try to–!”

He’s close enough that he can hear the tiny sigh Kuroko emits before he jabs Kagami neatly in the ribs. Kagami lets go of Seijuurou to double over in pain, yowling.

“Damnit you bastard, why is it always the ribs–!”

“Kagami-kun needs to learn to keep a level head,” Kuroko says with remarkable patience. “I have found that violence is the only way to keep Kagami-kun in line.”

Kagami scowls, but before he can say anything, Daiki says, “What’re you two even doing here? Come to gloat?”

Kagami turns his scowl Daiki’s way. “This idiot wanted to make sure you all hadn’t had your brains broken or something,” he says, jabbing a thumb at Kuroko with remarkable tactlessness. “Apparently Teikou isn’t allowed to lose or whatever, but I don’t see what’s wrong. It was just a practice match.”

Seijuurou fixes his eye on Kuroko. “Where did you go to middle school?” he demands.

Kuroko looks the most surprised he has all day. “Here,” he says, and all their attention snaps to him. “I was on the basketball team in my first year, and then I quit. I started up again in my third year, but it was too late to join the team, so I started one at Seirin with Hyuuga and Teppei.”

Seijuurou thinks, for one burning moment, what it would’ve been like to have Kuroko on their team–someone who could change the path of a game with just one quarter, who could affect a team so thoroughly… 

“I came because I wanted to make sure the lesson hit home,” Kuroko says.

“What lesson is that?” Shintarou asks, all of his delicate precision left behind due to his anger. “We lost. We failed.”

“You play basketball to win,” Kuroko agrees. “But… Isn’t basketball fun, too?”

Seijuurou blinks and something in his mind shifts. He hasn’t thought of basketball as fun in… years. It’s simply been something he can use to show his dominance, to show how absolute he is, they are. None of their games over the past year have made him want to smile or laugh in the way he did when he was very young and played basketball with other children. He can barely remember what it feels like to play basketball and feel joy.

He doesn’t have to look around to know that his team feels the same way. Isn’t that how they’ve become the best? By abandoning the joy to win?

Kuroko makes a low noise that is almost satisfied. “You’re all still growing,” he says. “And soon this team will be gone and you’ll have to go your own ways. In time, perhaps you’ll find what basketball means to you. But I do not think this game is only to win.” He smiles then, and it gives his stern, icy face warmth, kindness. “And it is not a game you play by yourself.”

Kagami slings an arm over Kuroko’s shoulders, grinning at them. “And besides,” he says. “Even if you lose, you can always play again, can’t you?”

“We’ll definitely beat you next time,” Ryouta says, his voice thick with tears. “Kurokocchi, Kagamicchi!”

“What’s with the weird–”

“Yes,” Kuroko says warmly. “Let’s play again, in the future.”

* * *

 

Seijuurou lies in wait as Seirin files out to their bus to leave. After a game with him, finding Kuroko is a little easier, but he’s still distressingly slippery to catch. He’s with Kagami, near the edge of the group.

“Kuroko-kun,” he says, stepping forward. Kuroko pauses and he and Kagami exchange a long look without words; the kind of silent communication only good partners and teammates ever truly achieve. Kagami nods and lopes off to follow the rest of the team, leaving Seijuurou and Kuroko alone.

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko says. “What did you want to speak with me about?”

Seijuurou wants to ask why Kuroko quit Teikou’s team in his first year, why he decided to take basketball back up again, how he can move like that and pass like that and not want to dominate all his opponents, if Kuroko will play him one-on-one–

But all he says is, “I will defeat you, when we play again.”

Kuroko blinks, as if Seijuurou’s caught him off-guard. Then he smiles again and extends a hand that Seijuurou takes with a firm shake. Kuroko’s palm is dry and callused against his own, slightly cold.

“I will watch your future with interest, Akashi Seijuurou,” he says.

Seijuurou stays and watches him leave. He doesn’t turn back to the gym until the Seirin bus has pulled out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love hyuuga as captain, but i do think that, out of the two of them, kuroko would make a better captain. plus i did like the idea of kuroko and akashi meeting on a completely even footing, position-wise.


	2. convincing an emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 2: kuroko makes the trip out to rakuzan to talk to akashi about the one thing he truly wants for his birthday. set after the winter cup, features cameos of the rakuzan team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt 'after winter cup.' spoilers for the end of the manga.

Rakuzan is an impressive school–they may be known for their basketball, but Tetsuya’s seen their academic record and it’s no joke. Of course Akashi-kun would only have the best of the best in all areas, though sometimes Testuya forgets that Akashi-kun is a genius in other things than basketball. 

The school day is already letting out, so it’s easy enough to ask some of the students for directions to the gym. They give him strange looks, and he scares a couple of first year girls, but he manages to make his way toward the back of the school with little incident. He’s not even sure if the Rakuzan team will be practicing now that the Winter Cup is over and the Inter-High preliminaries aren’t for another few more months, but if he knows Akashi-kun at all…

He smiles when he reaches the gym doors and hears the tell-tale squeaking of shoes running on the court. Akashi-kun is Akashi-kun, no matter what his eyes are like, it seems. Until their fracture after the second nationals, he never let anyone at Teikou rest after a tornument either.

Tetsuya slides in through the door and simply watches for a moment. None of Rakuzan’s members notice him except for Akashi-kun, who stands at the sidelines of what has to be a scrimmage game, watching intently. He looks over the moment Tetsuya steps inside the gym and something in his even expression spasms. Tetsuya doesn’t let his own agitation over that show; he’d hoped that he and Akashi-kun had come to terms with their final game, even if they couldn’t be close again, but Akashi-kun’s expression says otherwise.

Still, he came all this way. He’ll try his luck and hope Akashi-kun still has enough leftover affection for him to indulge him.

He realizes that he doesn’t see Mayuzumi amidst the players on the court and realizes that he must have retired from the club already. He feels a little sad for him–it must be hard to have your final game be a losing one. Still, Rakuzan had a good season, what with the Inter-High title and second place at the Winter Cup. Mayuzumi gave it his all until the very end - Tetsuya hopes he doesn’t have any regrets.

The scrimmage ends with Mibuchi’s team on the winning side. Tetsuya steps forward as the players collect themselves. He’ll never admit it, but he finds a certain sort of amused satisfaction from seeing people startle when he appears ‘out of nowhere.’ It almost makes up for dealing with his lack of presence day in and day out.

Akashi-kun, who is the most in-tune with Tetsuya’s particular brand of humor, gives him a long look as he approaches, but does nothing to stop him when he steps in between the two teams and says, “Hello.”

All of Rakuzan’s first string jumps in the most satisfactory manner. Tetsuya carefully doesn’t let his amusement show on his face, though he feels that Akashi-kun probably sees through that.

“You–!” Hayama screeches, pointing a finger. “When did you get here?!”

“I’ve already been here,” Tetsuya says, keeping his expression as still as possible. 

“Do we really have to see you again?” Mibuchi says with irritation, though Tetsuya notes the way his eyes cut to Akashi-kun. “It’s really a pain, since you just defeated us and all.”

“Just seeing this shrimp puts me on edge,” Nebuya mutters.

The new team members, who can only be first-years, give Tetsuya wide-eyed, slightly horrified looks.

“Tetsuya,” Akashi-kun says. Tetsuya’s always found Akashi-kun’s impassivity slightly irritating–it’s hard to read what he’s feeling at any given time. “It’s a long ride from Tokyo.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” Tetsuya says. “I thought it would be better to do in person.”

He also no longer has Akashi-kun’s number–like everyone else’s, Tetsuya got rid of it after that match in their third year and never bothered to get the new one. He has gathered them back now, one by one. Except for Akashi-kun’s.

“Oi, oi, what do you want with our captain?” Hayama says, getting into Tetsuya’s space. Tetsuya grimaces a little–he isn’t a big fan of strangers being too close to him.

“Let him go, Kotaro,” Akashi-kun says, and Hayama springs to obey.

Whatever fracture the Winter Cup finale brought to the surface has clearly been healed already. Rakuzan will be a hard team to beat in the Inter-High. Tetsuya finds that he’s more excited than worried.

“Don’t forget your drills,” Akashi-kun says, more to the first years than to the others. “Practice tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”

The first-years groan, but bound out without another word. Akashi-kun levels an even stare at the others until they too leave, although they cast wary looks over their shoulder at Tetsuya as they go. Tetsuya supposes he can’t blame them; in their eyes, he is the player who brought their trusted captain low and helped their team with defeat. 

Alone in the gym, Tetsuya finds he doesn’t know what to say, despite practicing it on the train ride over. The moment he catches Akashi-kun’s eyes–both red, and Tetsuya always feels a burst of warmth knowing that he helped with that–his well-practiced words fly out of his head.

“What is it, Tetsuya?” Akashi-kun asks after the silence between them stretches out. There’s a flicker of wry amusement in his eyes as he adds, “I didn’t think you were the type to gloat.”

It isn’t a bitter statement, but Tetsuya recoils a little from it. “I would never,” he says. “You should know that, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi-kun’s face softens by inches. “Aa. I suppose I do.”

The silence stretches for another long moment. “My birthday is soon,” Tetsuya says. He doesn’t let his dismay show - that wasn’t how he wanted to start this. Kagami-kun would say that he’s epically uncool. “I–I already invited the others, but I hoped you might be willing to spend part of the day with me. And them. Playing basketball or anything, really.”

He really is grateful to Akashi-kun for his instruction on keeping emotions off of his face, for it allows him to stutter through this messy speech without blushing. Akashi-kun’s face, of course, is blank and unreadable. He doesn’t speak for a long time, so long that Tetsuya almost gives up and makes a run for it so he can ponder his humiliation in solitude. Of course Akashi-kun doesn’t want to spend time with him after Tetsuya made him lose for the first time in possibly _ever_ –

“I’d be honored.”

Tetsuya blinks. “Oh,” he says, useless and at a loss for words. Even when he’d made the long journey out here, he hadn’t really hoped that Akashi-kun would say yes. “You–oh.”

Akashi-kun smiles then, as gentle and wry as when Tetsuya first met him. Tetsuya’s heart stutters a little bit at that expression, neck warming. He hopes he isn’t blushing.

“I thought you would prefer to spend it with your new team,” Akashi-kun says. 

“I will,” Tetsuya says. “They’re important to me. But you all are important to me too.”

Akashi-kun considers him and his smile deepens, warming his eyes. Tetsuya could cry from how happy it makes him to see Akashi-kun smiling like that again, clear-eyed and kind. He’d thought this Akashi-kun was lost forever to the haze of total domination and winning. He’s happy for all of his friends, of course–there’s nothing he wanted more than to see them thrive with their teams–but Akashi-kun is the one he wanted this for most, after Aomine-kun. They both needed to change, to adapt, even if it was in completely different ways. Tetsuya’s a little humbled to think he had anything to do with helping them on that path.

“You know, I did wonder sometimes what would have happened if Daiki had never found you in that gym,” Akashi-kun says. “If you had never become a first-string member like the rest of us.”

“I would have been happier,” Tetsuya admits, because there was a period after that match in third year that he could hardly get out of bed for depression. 

Akashi-kun’s smile falls away and Tetsuya mourns it, but he doesn’t say anything to put it back. There’s a long road ahead of them before they can be easy with each other–Tetsuya has forgiven all of his friends, but he has no intention of forgetting what they did to him or to each other. 

“I suppose so,” Akashi-kun says. “But I do think that we all would have been truly lost, if you hadn’t been there to guide us, Tetsuya. In more ways than one.”

Tetsuya blinks, startled to hear something so–so  _sappy._ Akashi-kun, like the rest of his old teammates, tends toward the melodramatic, but he’s also always been a pragmatic, level-headed person for the most part. Tetsuya’s blushing now, but he can’t help it; Akashi-kun’s never said such things to him before, and it warms up the part of him that still wonders darkly why his Teikou teammates had even bothered with a sixth man. 

“My life would have been very different if I hadn’t met you,” Tetsuya says. “And I would have been happier, I think. But it would have been much less interesting, altogether.”

Akashi-kun smiles again. “Aa. I’m glad to hear that, Tetsuya.” 

He picks up a basketball leftover from training and passes it–Tetsuya catches it before he realizes his body is moving, still trained to respond to Akashi-kun’s passes even after all these years. 

“We should play a game, on your birthday,” Akashi-kun says. “Three-on-three.” Then, to Tetsuya’s astonishment, he grins, exposing white teeth and a dimple in his right cheek. “I’ll pick you first, of course.”

Tetsuya allows himself a true, wide smile. “Of course, Akashi-kun.”

It’ll be the best birthday he’s ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at the end of the manga, we see kuroko in a pic with the rest of the miracles on his birthday. i wanted to know how he convinced akashi to go along with it, considering their tense history, so this came along.


	3. trust fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day three: tetsuya meets akashi on the street courts as a kid instead of ogiwara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for day three of akakuro week. one of the optional prompts was 'childhood' so i decided to write an au where kuroko meets akashi as a kid instead of ogiwara. thanks for your kudos & comments!

Tetsuya’s never really been good at sports. He plays with the other kids when he can, but he can’t hit a baseball and he’s not good at running, so they usually pick him last for teams. Soon, he starts to stay inside instead, reading old mystery novels or doing his homework. So it’s pure chance that he sees the basketball game on the television one afternoon - his eye is caught by the arc of the orange ball as it sinks into the net and he finds that for the next twenty minutes, he can’t look away. Unlike all the other sports he’s played, basketball actually looks  _fun_.

He goes to the nearest street courts the next day with a bright orange ball he borrowed from his next door neighbor’s son. It feels too large in his hands and he keeps dropping it, but every time he thinks about going home he sees the arc of the ball in his mind again and he doggedly continues on. The courts are abandoned when he arrives - and their neighborhood is small, so it’s really just a patch of concrete and a hoop. Tetsuya looks from the ball to the hoop and gives it a chance; he throws it up as hard as he can and watches, dismayed as it flops down right in front of his face, not even close to the net. How do they do it?

“Your aim is terrible.”

Tetsuya jumps and whirls around to meet the even stare of the red-headed boy who snuck up on him while he was distracted. Tetsuya’s already noticed the way people don’t really see him unless he speaks and he’s often given people a scare if he times it right - it’s odd to be on the receiving end of that kind of thing. Is this how all the others feel when he does it to them?

“I just started!” he says, the boy’s words registering for the first time. “That was the first time I ever tried to throw the ball!”

“Oh?” the boy says. “Well, I guess it wasn’t so bad for a first try.”

Mollified, Tetsuya smiles at him. “I’m Kuroko,” he says. “Kuroko Tetsuya.”

The boy blinks, as if he’s somehow taken aback by Tetsuya’s introduction. “Akashi Seijuurou,” he says after a long moment. 

“Did you just move here, Akashi-kun?” Tetsuya asks. “I’ve never seen you around before. Do you go to Gakuen?” 

“Gakuen?”

Tetsuya frowns. “Gakuen Elementary?”

“Ah. No. The car got a flat tire and my driver brought it to the nearby shop to get it fixed. He said I could wander for a little while while we waited.”

Tetsuya’s eyes widen.  _Driver_? Is Akashi some sort of rich kid? Should Tetsuya be nicer to him or bow or something? He’s not really sure, but he sees people act like that to CEOs on TV all the time. He almost does it, but he catches sight of Akashi’s face and hesitates - Akashi has a pained expression on, like he knows what Tetsuya’s thinking. Perhaps he doesn’t like to be treated that way?

Tetsuya looks over at the ball, which has rolled off the court and into the nearby lawn. He  _does_  need to practice…

“Would you like to practice with me?”

Akashi’s expression lights up. Tetsuya smiles.

* * *

 

They don’t meet that often. Seijuurou  _does_  live in central Tokyo, which is amazing to Tetsuya, but means that he has to make a special trip if they ever want to see each other. Usually, they spend their time together playing basketball. Seijuurou is the same age as Tetsuya, but he’s so much better at basketball that he seems older.

“How are you so good?” Tetsuya asks, panting, as Seijuurou makes another basket. “Have you been playing for long?”

“No,” Akashi says. “Just a year or so. I liked it the best out of the sports we played at school.”

“You must be a natural,” Tetsuya says, with some envy. He’s never been a natural at  _anything_ , except maybe not being noticed.

“I suppose,” Seijuurou says, with the indifference born of always being good at whatever he does. “But I’ve been thinking about it - you’ve got little presence, don’t you?”

Tetsuya’s always going to hold the memory of startling Seijuurou enough to make him shriek the second time they met close to his heart. “Yeah, I guess.”

Seijuurou’s look turns thoughtful. “You might be able to use that,” he says. “In basketball, I mean.”

Tetsuya frowns. “How is not being noticed going to help with basketball?”

“I’m not sure - and besides, it’s something you should figure out for yourself. I just think it could be useful, that’s all.” Seijuurou smiles at him. “You’ll never be an athlete, Tetsuya. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be good at the game or useful to your team in some way, you know?”

Tetsuya’s entire body floods with warmth. “You think so, Seijuurou-kun?”

“Drop the -kun,” Seijuurou says, as he’s said every time since he convinced Tetsuya to call him by first name. “And yes. Every player on the team is important, right? Even if they contribute in different ways.”

Tetsuya smiles, wide and unrestrained. “I’m glad I met you, Seijuurou-kun.”

To his surprise, Seijuurou’s face flushes. He’s never seen Seijuurou so flustered before - they’re the same age, but Seijuurou is always so collected that he seems much older sometimes, which Tetsuya assumes comes from being the first son and heir to a rich corporation. It’s strangely endearing to see Seijuurou acting like any other kid getting a compliment. It makes Tetsuya want to compliment him more, to see if his blush will deepen.

“You’re my best friend, Seijuurou-kun,” Tetsuya tries, and to his delight, the blush  _does_  deepen.

“Let’s just play, Tetsuya,” Seijuurou mutters, but he continues to blush for the entire game.

* * *

 

Tetsuya’s father changes companies and they move into the inner city, which means that Tetsuya can apply to the same middle school as Seijuurou. It also means they get to spend most of their afternoons together which, after a half-year of only seeing each other once or twice a week, is absolute heaven.

Tetsuya’s never been very friendly with other children - he has an odd sense of humor and he never quite knows what to say, not to mention most of them never even notice he’s there. Seijuurou is his only close friend and Tetsuya’s fine with that - but it’s nice to have him around more often, to talk with and get milkshakes with as well as to play basketball with.

“Misdirection?” Seijuurou says one afternoon as Tetsuya explains his new tactic. He sounds skeptical, but Seijuurou is skeptical of almost everything. He asks a lot of questions that adults never seem to know how to answer, which amuses Tetsuya to no end. “You want to keep their eye off the ball?”

“Off of me,” Tetsuya says. “The ball has too much focus, but I have no presence - it’ll be easy to pass their eyes off of me and onto someone or something else. I think it could be useful for passing - I could steal a lot.”

“It could be interesting if you used it for other things too,” Seijuurou says thoughtfully. “Like - dribbling or shooting.”

“An invisible dribble?” Tetsuya asks. “That seems impossible, Seijuurou-kun.”

“Drop the -kun. And so does using a magic trick to play basketball.”

“You  _said_  to use my presence to my advantage.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t try it. But don’t expect miracles, Tetsuya.”

* * *

 

If Tetsuya hadn’t spent four years with Seijuurou, practicing and running drills almost every afternoon for two of them, he probably would’ve failed to make it to Teikou’s third string. Even so, if it wasn’t for his misdirection play and passes, he knows he wouldn’t have made first string with Seijuurou - he’s lucky their coach thought his style of basketball was interesting and formidable instead of just strange. 

“We need a player like you who can change things up,” the coach had said after watching Tetsuya play in a scrimmage game. “Akashi-kun was right to recommend you for first string.”

“You recommended me?” Tetsuya asks as they walk home from school after practice. “You’re such a good friend, Seijuurou-kun.”

Seijuurou hasn’t grown out of the habit of blushing whenever Tetsuya compliments him, which means that Tetsuya compliments him as often as possible. He likes the way Seijuurou’s ears glow red when he’s embarrassed by something.

“You worked hard,” Seijuurou says. “And your passes will help Teikou to victory.”

Tetsuya smiles at him, honestly pleased. “Seijuurou-kun is so kind.”

“You’re delusional, Tetsuya.”

“But isn’t that what all those girls who wait for you to come to school every morning say? ‘Ah, Akashi-kun is the most gentle and kind boy!’ or something like that.”

“They’re delusional as well.”

“… Seijuurou-kun is lacking in tact. Someday you’re going to make a girl cry.”

* * *

 

Part of the fun of being on first string is watching all the other members with Seijuurou. None of them seem to know what to make of him. 

“Tetsuya, you need to work on your shooting drills. They aren’t up to par.”

“Seijuurou-kun is most unkind.”

Midorima gives him the side-eye. “You and Akashi know each other well, don’t you, Kuroko?”

Tetsuya doesn’t let his amusement show on his face. Recently, he and Seijuurou discussed how keeping his expression even will help with his lack of presence and make his misdirection more effective, so Tetsuya’s practicing.

“We met when we were young,” he says. “Seijuurou-kun was my basketball practice partner since we were nine.”

Midorima thinks he’s close-mouthed and unreadable, but he actually has a very expressive face - Tetsuya can see how much this news makes other things about Tetsuya and his basketball much easier to understand for him.

“Did he instruct you about how to do misdirection, then?” Midorima asks.

The first years on first string all have a remarkable lack of tact, Tetsuya thinks, more amused than offended that Midorima apparently thinks Tetsuya couldn’t have come up with his basketball on his own.

“Tetsuya came up with it on his own,” Seijuurou says. Midorima blanches. Even for someone who doesn’t know him well, Seijuurou’s voice is clearly frosty. “He has remarkable basketball sense.”

“Oi, Tetsu!” Aomine calls from across the court. “Come over here and help me stretch!”

Tetsuya nods to a still pasty Midorima and exchanges a look with Seijuurou. He’s not quite as sadistic as Seijuurou, but he can admit it’s a little fun messing with their teammates. 

* * *

 

Teikou is odd in many ways - for the first time, Tetsuya makes friends outside of Seijuurou. He practices with Aomine late into the evening almost every day - Aomine says that he likes Tetsuya because he’s clearly a basketball nut and he can’t dislike anyone like that. Tetsuya likes Aomine too, for his openness and liveliness and basketball love. Aomine’s also the only one who can really catch his passes all the time, aside from Seijuurou.

Seijuurou makes friends too, which makes Tetsuya feel a little odd. He doesn’t like shogi, so he doesn’t mind Midorima having to play instead, but it’s just… weird to not have Seijuurou bully him into playing. Sometimes he goes to watch Midorima and Seijuurou play, but then that odd feeling deepens, so he ends up avoiding it whenever possible. 

Seijuurou acts odd too, whenever Tetsuya declines his offer to walk home together to stay and practice with Aomine, but Tetsuya writes it off as Seijuurou disliking Tetsuya walking home alone; ever since that time Tetsuya nearly got hit by a driver who didn’t see him, Seijuurou’s been very responsible about making sure Tetsuya’s never on the road alone.

Tetsuya puts it out of his mind. He has other things to worry about - basketball, his homework, and, recently, his new trainee, Kise Ryouta.

* * *

 

Seijuurou will never admit it, but Tetsuya knows he got rid of Haizaki because he started being rough with Tetsuya. Aomine and Midorima, Tetsuya got along well with - Haizaki saw little use for Tetsuya and never hesitated to tell him so. Every practice or game with Haizaki became rough. Bruises kept appearing on his arms and legs where Haizaki would ‘accidentally’ run into him and Tetsuya was starting to get tired of being told how useless he was all the time just because his shooting was sub-par and he wasn’t good at much beyond passing.

So hearing Haizaki had been suspended from first-string was a relief, even if he was suspicious of the blank way that Seijuurou announced the news - a sure sign that he was hiding something. In any case, his replacement was much better, even if he didn’t think much of Tetsuya. Nobody ever did, at first, except for Seijuurou.

“Akashicchi!” Kise Ryouta says after his first practice. “Please reassign me to a new mentor!”

Seijuurou’s eyes narrow. Behind Kise’s back, Tetsuya gives him a long, pointed look - Kise’s dismissal of him is amusing and not particularly hurtful. Kise is too melodramatic and ridiculous to really be hurtful. 

“Tetsuya is an integral player to our team,” Seijuurou says and Tetsuya bites his cheek to keep from smiling. He’ll never be tired of hearing that. “You can learn a lot from him, Ryouta.”

“But, but –!” 

“Mah, just can it, Kise!” Aomine says. “You haven’t even seen Tetsu play, so don’t say anything about how good he is or not until then!”

“But he can’t even shoot a basket!”

“You’re still working on that new shooting style, aren’t you?” Seijuurou asks, a light demand in his voice.

Tetsuya sighs. Sometimes Seijuurou is so exhausting. “Yes, yes. Every afternoon.”

“He’s getting better,” Aomine puts in. “Although he did faint yesterday.”

Kise looks indignant. “You fainted from shooting practice?! How–”

Seijuurou’s eyes narrow. “You fainted?” he asks, and Tetsuya cringes. Why did Aomine have to mention that? “I would have come to pick you up, Tetsuya.”

“I didn’t see the need. It was brief.”

“Even a brief faint is unacceptable, Tetsuya. I want this new shot as much as you do, but if you’re over-straining yourself–”

“Seijuurou-kun, nobody likes a mother hen.”

Seijuurou’s too collected to let his jaw drop, but Tetsuya sees Kise’s do it for him out of the corner of his eye. Seijuurou must catch his amused satisfaction, even though Tetsuya’s sure he doesn’t let it show, because his eyes narrow in a dangerous way.

“If this ever happens again, you’ll inform me immediately,” he says. “And no more long practices for at least a week.”

He turns and strides away. Tetsuya sighs. He hates being restricted from practices - long, hard hours put into things is the only way for him to get better. Of course a complete natural like Seijuurou doesn’t understand that–

“Wow,” Kise says, sounding awed. “Maybe you’re cooler than I thought, Kuroko. Aren’t you scared to stand up to Akashicchi like that?”

“I’ve known him since we were nine,” Tetsuya says. “He’s not as scary as you think.”

Kise gives him a look that says how much he believes  _that_.

* * *

 

Kise’s the one who comes running to Tetsuya.

“Kurokocchi!” he pants. “There’s - game with Murasakibaracchi - something happened - wrong -”

Tetsuya frowns at him and lowers the basketball. He’s getting 8/10 shots with the phantom shot now, he can afford to slack in practice for a minute.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“You need to come right now!” Kise says. “Midorimacchi said to get you and I think he’s right, something happened to Akashicchi–!”

Tetsuya’s running before Kise can finish speaking. He’d been practicing in an adjacent gym so he could do his shots in peace, so it’s only a short way over to the main gym where first string practices. He bursts in, Kise hot on his heels, and finds Seijuurou standing there, surrounded by their team. He’s covered in sweat, but it’s his eyes that give Tetsuya pause - they’ve gone odd, somehow. One is gold, instead of red.

“Tetsuya,” Seijuurou says, but there’s no warmth in it. “I was just telling the others about how things will be going in practice from now on.”

Tetsuya looks at the others, but they’re all giving him discomforted looks. “Oh?” he asks. 

“I’ve decided that there’s no need for practice,” Seijuurou says. Seijuurou, who has made them practice every day, even after tournaments, even after they won _nationals_. “And I think we’ll be able to manage without you for most games. After all, we’re good enough to handle games on our own, don’t you think?”

All Tetsuya can hear is the ringing in his ears. He stares at Seijuurou, the one person who’s ever believed in him even when he hadn’t done anything to deserve it, and his vision swims with red. It isn’t until there’s a stinging sensation in his palm that he realizes he’s slapped Seijuurou clean across the cheek.

“ _Do without me_?” he manages to choke out. “Is that what you really think? That I’m that expendable? You’re the one who encouraged me to pursue this, you’re the one who told me that what I was doing was possible and you’re standing here telling me you’re going to  _bench_  me?!”

Seijuurou’s blinking as if he can’t quite understand what’s happening. His eye is going funny again - gold bleeding into red and back again. 

“Tetsuya…?” he says, sounding confused.

“The only reason I’m playing basketball like this is because of you,” Tetsuya says. “And I won’t let you throw me away. Nobody plays basketball alone, Seijuurou-kun, not even the most talented players. And I may not be talented, but the least I can do is remind you that basketball is something you play with others. With a team.”

“A team,” Seijuurou says, a little dreamy now.

“Even if you lose,” Tetsuya says, because he remembers that Kise said something about a game with Murasakibara, and after five years as Seijuurou’s best friend, he can imagine what set off this sudden personality change. Seijuurou’s always been worried about failure. “Even if you fail, we’ll be there too.” He glances at the others, but they all seem too shell-shocked to say anything. “ _I’ll_  be there.”

Seijuurou blinks and blinks and the gold eye is gone. “Aa,” he says, in the old, quiet tone that Tetsuya’s used to and cherishes. “Yes. I suppose you always have been rather hard to get rid of, Tetsuya.”

Tetsuya stifles his relief. He’s not sure exactly what had almost happened, but he knows in his heart that it wouldn’t have been good. He’s seen glimpses of that Seijuurou before - the one that puts winning and success before anything else, the one that doesn’t like to be tied down to people or relationships. Usually Seijuurou overcomes it on his own, because he is actually a kind and gentle person even if he doesn’t like to be thought of as such. Whatever Murasakibara did must have scared him enough to push him over the edge, though. Tetsuya doesn’t like to think about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t known what to do to pull Seijuurou back. 

“Come on,” he says to Seijuurou. “I think we should go home.”

He extends a hand. Seijuurou, after a long, thoughtful pause, takes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm pretty sure that akashi would've made kuroko more assertive & kuroko would've made akashi more open/emotional. also akashi definitely would've sped up kuroko's basketball progress, so i don't think it's out of line that kuroko would be good enough to get into first string right away instead.


	4. after the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day four: after the winter cup, akashi falls into depression. kuroko’s the only one who can get him out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the fourth day of akakuro week, under the prompt the phrase ‘who are you?’ set in the weeks following the winter cup. spoilers for the end of the manga if you haven’t read it.

Seijuurou goes home the night of the Winter Cup and doesn’t get out of bed the next morning. His maid comes to his door and knocks, informing him that he has school and breakfast is waiting for him - when he doesn’t reply, she comes in and tries to nag him out of bed, but he just gives her an even, blank-eyed stare until she gives up and goes away. And, for the two weeks following, he does the exact same thing every morning.

His maid brings his food to his bed after the second day, but Seijuurou doesn’t eat much of it. He spends his time sleeping and reading the novels piled up on his bedside table - old classics he hasn’t read in years, hard science fiction, and even some manga. He picks up a pulp mystery novel and has to set it aside - he remembers, back from Teikou, how Tetsuya would always have one of them on hand to read after practice or in between matches. Daiki used to tease him about it.

Seijuurou can’t think about Tetsuya right now, because all it does is remind him of when he last saw Tetsuya - breathing hard, dripping with sweat, making the final beautiful pass that led to Rakuzan’s defeat. Destroying Seijuurou’s iron resolve. 

Looking back, Seijuurou probably should’ve expected Tetsuya to be the one. The others are their own brand of genius, but Tetsuya had always been too much like Seijuurou for Seijuurou’s peace of mind. They thought in a similar way - strategic, observant, and bloody-minded for victory. He might’ve seen it sooner, if it wasn’t for the  _other_  him. 

Seijuurou pushes those thoughts aside as often as he can. He doesn’t like to think about what the other him did to the people he had once considered as close as family, his teammates who he had treasured so dearly. Daiki had his own hand in it, and the rest of them soon grew to be monsters in their own right, but Seijuurou has no illusions; he was the pick-axe that fractured their team. If it wasn’t for him, Teikou may have been salvageable, their team may not have parted ways as broken people, Tetsuya may never have--

No. He can’t think about it. So he turns back to his novel and buries himself in someone else’s life.

* * *

Tetsuya’s life returns to its normal pattern after the Winter Cup, which is decidedly odd. Instead of spending every free moment in practice, working on all his new techniques and team plays, he spends it at home, working on his homework. He still sees Kagami every day, but he sees the others a little less - they have exams to worry about, after all, and with their season currently over, even their basketball-nutty team is taking a bit of a breather. Their game against Rakuzan exhausted them all.

So basketball is the last thing on his mind when he gets a call from Midorima. He frowns down at the phone uncertainly as it rings. Out of everyone from Teikou, he and Midorima have never been the closest - Tetsuya respects Midorima, and he’s happy that he found his place at Shuutoku, but they keep a healthy distance between them. It’s nothing like his slowly repairing relationship with Aomine and Kise, who he sees at least once a week.

“Midorima-kun?” he says as he picks up. “Is something the matter?”

Midorima huffs. “I could be calling for a friendly chat, you know.”

Tetsuya, alone in his room, allows for a private smile. “Ah, but Aha-Osa said Cancers would have a difficult time today.”

Tetsuya’s not sure how it is for the others, but he’s never quite managed to get rid of the habit of listening to Aha-Osa every morning. At first, he started to simply get a read on what Midorima would be behaving like that day, or to prepare himself for whatever wild lucky item Midorima might bring in. Even after his fallout with his team, he never really managed to shake the habit, which had come in useful during Inter-High. He listens for all his old and new team’s signs.

Midorima’s surprise is evident. “I didn’t know you listened, Kuroko,” he says. 

“Aa. It seemed like a good idea to know how oddly Midorima-kun would be behaving day-to-day.”

There’s a braying laugh in the background that can only be Takao as Midorima sputters. Kuroko smiles again, pleased that he still can fluster Midorima. 

“Why are you calling, Midorima-kun? Kagami-kun has to study for exams, so we can’t have a match.

“That’s not it,” Midorima says. “I got a call from Hayama today.”

Tetsuya frowns. “From Rakuzan?”

“Aa. He says they haven’t seen Akashi at school since the Winter Cup.”

“That was two weeks ago.”

“Nobody’s seen him,” Midorima says. “I called his house and the maid says he’s barely left his room.”

Tetsuya considers all this information, completely baffled. Even before his transformation, Akashi was hardly one to wallow or hide. He always confronted his problems head-on. Could defeat truly shatter him? Even the others recovered in their own way. 

But then, Akashi may never have truly been defeated before. 

“Why are you telling me this, Midorima-kun?”

There’s a long, considering pause on the other end. “I think,” Midorima says, “that it might be a good idea if you go out and talk to him.”

* * *

Tetsuya never went to Akashi’s home when they knew each other at Teikou, but Midorima supplies him with the address and directions. It takes nearly two hours to get there and, as Tetsuya walks up to the huge, gated mansion, he can’t help but think that Akashi always does manage to surprise him.

“I’m here to see Akashi-kun,” he says into the intercom. “I’m Kuroko Tetsuya an... old friend from middle school.”

There’s a long pause, but the gates do open to let him in. It takes him nearly ten minutes to reach the front door. If Akashi was raised in this kind of life, no wonder success was so important to him - doubtless it was expected he would succeed fully in everything he did. 

He’s let in by a tiny woman in a smart maid’s outfit, who takes his jacket and bag and ushers him upstairs. The mansion is eerily silent for a house of its size. Tetsuya’s parents often travel for work, leaving him on his own for weeks at a time - perhaps Akashi’s parents are the same? Though there’s something sterile about this house - aside from some slick, modern art on the walls, it is as clean and empty as a hospital. 

The maid leads him to a door on the third floor and knocks. “Akashi-sama,” she says. “You have a visitor.”

“Send them away,” Akashi says from inside the room. His voice sounds hoarse. “Hayama, I told you I’m not coming to school--”

“Apologies,” Tetsuya says to the maid as he pushes open the door and steps inside, ignoring her horrified protests. “It’s not Hayama-kun, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi’s room is dim, curtains pulled tight across the windows, and he sits on a very rumpled bed surrounded by books. He sits up when Tetsuya enters, eyes narrowing. It’s a little disconcerting to see him with two red eyes again, almost as if they’ve gone back in time. 

“Tetsuya,” Akashi says. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Your teammates were worried,” Tetsuya says, crossing the room to take a seat in the armchair near the foot of the bed. “They got in contact with Midorima-kun, who relayed their concerns to me.”

“To you?” Akashi says.

Tetsuya allows some of his amusement to show. “Apparently they felt I was the only one stubborn enough to ignore your protests of being left alone.”

“Your tenacity has always been one of your strongest features,” Akashi agrees. His narrow-eyed look leaves him for a moment, and with his face softened he becomes more and more the Akashi that Tetsuya admired and liked back in middle school. “Yet, that doesn’t explain why you decided to actually come all this way. It’s a long way from home for you, isn’t it?”

“Midorima-kun was worried,” Tetsuya says.

“Shintarou is excitable when it comes to his teammates,” Akashi says. “Even his old teammates.”

Tetsuya carefully doesn’t bring up the week he caught a cold and spent days trying to fend off Midorima’s increasingly vexed attempts to feed him soup or medicine. 

“Even so,” he says. “Holing yourself up like this isn’t like you, Akashi-kun.”

“Oh?” Akashi asks, and his face has gone dangerous again. “I guess we don’t really know, do we?”

Tetsuya frowns at him, baffled, before he realizes what Akashi is talking about.  _Oh_ , he thinks. He supposes he should’ve guessed it was about this.

“Do you feel uncertain, Akashi-kun?” he asks, because Tetsuya’s never been one to beat around the bush.

“I spent months as a different version of myself,” Akashi says. “Years, even. And that self destroyed--” He turns away, jaw tight. “Never mind. It isn’t important. I am absolute.”

Tetsuya shudders a little to hear that phrase again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to hear it without dread.

“Akashi-kun,” he says, with the voice he reserves for scared animals he finds on the streets, the ones who need to be coaxed out with kindness. “Who are you?”

Akashi freezes. “I am Akashi Seijuurou,” he says.

Tetsuya shakes his head. “No. Who  _are_  you?”

Akashi’s nostrils flare. “I am  _Akashi Seijuurou_ , captain of Rakuzan, first son of the Akashi empire. I am absolute.” His voice wavers.

Tetsuya sighs. “Do you know why I worked so hard to master misdirection, Akashi-kun?” he asks. Akashi frowns at him. “I wanted to play basketball with Aomine-kun, that’s true. But I worked because you, out of everyone in my life, looked at me and saw potential instead of failure. Even Aomine-kun didn’t, at first. But you saw me and thought I could do great things, if I tried hard enough for them, even if they weren’t great in the way I wanted. For that faith, I would’ve hung the moon for you.”

Tetsuya’s never seen Akashi like this - soft-jawed and wide-eyed, slack with shock. Not even during their game. It’s hard to surprise Akashi, but Tetsuya finds pleasure in being one of the few able to do it, with basketball or outside of it. Akashi needs to be kept on his toes, sometimes.

“The person you were would never have looked at someone like me and encouraged me,” Tetsuya continues. “Or, at least, he would’ve looked at someone like me and seen a tool instead of potential.” He hesitates. “He would’ve turned me into Mayuzumi instead. Something expendable, to be thrown away whenever it didn’t have use anymore.”

Akashi flinches. “I was that person,” he says. “Even before I changed, I was that person too. I encouraged you because I thought you could be useful.”

“Aa,” Tetsuya says. “I know that. But you also encouraged me because you saw how much I needed it, didn’t you? And you never treated me like someone expendable until that last year, even when I was still in the beginning stages.”

“What do you want from me, Tetsuya?” Akashi says, sounding weary. “I’m not that person anymore. I let you all down. I  _failed_.”

Tetsuya eyes Akashi and sighs. Standing up, he walks over and leans forward to flick Akashi square on the forehead. Akashi’s look of bald shock is something Tetsuya will carry with him to his grave. If Midorima were here, he would’ve fainted dead-away.

“You lost,” Tetsuya says. “You made mistakes. Do you know how many times I’ve lost and made mistakes, Akashi-kun? And yet here I stand, talking and moving around and living my life. Mistakes aren’t the end, not if you don’t let them be.” He gives Akashi a stern look. “And what might help, you know, is if you  _apologized_.”

Akashi stares at him. “Apologize?” he asks, completely nonplussed.

“To us,” Tetsuya says. “That’s what you regret, right? You think you’re the reason we fractured at the end. It wasn’t completely you, you know. Aomine-kun and the rest helped it along, and I never stopped it from happening. It takes a team to screw up a team, I guess.”

“Just apologize?” Akashi says, his features going harsh. “You think that it’s that simple?”

“I think Akashi-kun has the unfortunate habit of overthinking,” Tetsuya says without apology. “It  _is_  that simple.”

Akashi considers him for a long moment and Tetsuya has the odd feeling of being watched like a cat watches a mouse. 

“I’m sorry,” Akashi says. “For treating you badly and ignoring you. And for hurting your friend.”

Tetsuya smiles, wide and true, and enjoys the way Akashi’s eyes widen. “I forgive you, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi makes an aggravated noise. “Tetsuya, you can’t just--”

“It’s my choice to make,” Tetsuya says. “I forgave you the moment you came back to yourself, during the game. The moment you started playing like you used to, with the team again. That’s all I wanted for you all of you, was to remember what it was like to be part of a team again.”

Akashi stares at him. “I’m glad it was you,” he says. Tetsuya blinks. “I’m glad it was you, in the finals,” Akashi clarifies. “If I had to lose to anyone--I am glad it was you, Tetsuya.”

Tetsuya can feel the blush spreading up his neck, so he turns away hurriedly. “I’d better get back,” he says, a little flustered now. “It’s a long train ride. Go to school tomorrow, Akashi-kun.”

“I’ll think about it,” Akashi says as Tetsuya opens the door. “And Tetsuya?”

Tetsuya turns and blinks when he sees Akashi smiling at him, the same gentle smile he offered Tetsuya back at Teikou whenever he made a good pass or told a good joke. Tetsuya’s heart stutters at the sight of it. 

“Yes?” he asks.

“Thank you.”

Tetsuya’s blushing now, he can feel it, but he smiles back. “Anytime, Akashi-kun.”

He turns, leaves, and lets the door close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> midorima and kuroko's dynamic is actually one of my favorites in the series for some reason, i wanted to see way more of them together.


	5. falling (for you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 5: ‘you slipped on a patch of ice and i happened to be walking behind you and you fell into my arms and wow you’re really attractive’ au.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teikou!kuroko and rakuzan!akashi, with the prompts ‘awkwardness’ and ‘first meetings.’ set during the winter break season, when akashi would be in tokyo again. kuroko is in his third year of middle school, akashi is in his first year of high school. idk why i keep making kuroko a captain, he just seems like he’d be a good one. and can you imagine any of the other miracles as a captain??? they’d all DIE.

As a child with no particular athletic ability and determination to do well in a contact sport, Tetsuya is no stranger to small accidents. He’s battled his way up to Teikou’s legendary first string, after all - in order to pass everyone else, he had to spend longer hours at the school gym and work three times as hard, which means he spends a lot of time collecting bruises. And, honestly, he’s not particularly graceful, outside of the court. He’s not quite as bad as some of his classmates, but as someone who spends a lot of time not being seen, Tetsuya’s become used to being hit or elbowed or knocked down - usually by accident.

And really, sometimes he’s just asking for it; like when he walks on icy sidewalks with his nose in a book.

His mother bought the book for him as a preemptive present for the new year - a mystery-thriller by his favorite author. Tetsuya knows, intellectually, that it’s a mistake to walk along Tokyo’s busy streets with the book plastered to his face, but it’s impossible to put down. He does his best to spread his attention so he doesn’t get too many elbows to the face, but soon enough he’s so absorbed in the plot twists that keep on coming that he stops paying attention.

Which is, of course, his downfall. Literally.

Tetsuya, even in the midst of the game-changing gunfight in his book, knows the minute he takes the step that there’s something off, but it isn’t until his world begins to tilt that he realizes he’s falling. He has one blank moment of surprise and a brief chance to be disappointed in the enforced reading break before his descent to the ground is abruptly stopped. Tetsuya blinks up at the white, clouded sky before his vision is overtaken by  _red_ –the red eyes and hair of the person who must have miraculously caught him mid-fall.

Tetsuya blinks, utterly bewildered not so much by the fall but by the way the boy managed to see him in order to catch him. There aren’t many people who can do that sort of thing.

“You probably shouldn’t read while you walk,” the boy says. He’s smiling a little and, Tetsuya realizes, he’s the particular sort of good-looking that means he must have a lot of girl fans at whatever school he goes to.

“It was getting to the good part,” Tetsuya says and wills down the blush that threatens to overtake his face. The boy still hasn’t let go of him, and people are starting to stare. It’s starting to feel a little awkward, being held so intimately by someone like this. “But I’m alright  _now_.”

More a pointed reminder than a statement.  _Can you let me go now, please?_ Tetsuya thinks, a little desperately. Their faces seem to be unnaturally close together. He’s gotten used to being around pretty people - his teammate is  _Kise Ryouta_ , he  _had_  to get used to being around pretty people - but never in such… close quarters before. And definitely not after they caught him like some sort of shogou manga protagonist.

The boy blinks, as if surprised, before realization crosses over his face and he loosens his grip so that Tetsuya can right himself. Tetsuya straightens to his full height, surprised to find that he’s nearly on an even footing with the boy - most people, even the ones his own age, are much taller than him. In fact, since all of his teammates tower over him, Tetsuya’s more used to having to crane his neck up to look at people than not. This boy only has a few inches on him, though Tetsuya’s sure that he’s older.

The crowd of people walking flows around them as they stand there, staring at each other. Tetsuya should probably give a polite thank you and walk away, but he finds that himself strangely tongue-tied. What is he supposed to say to this handsome stranger?

“Akashi Seijuurou,” the boy says, inclining his head. “Please treat me kindly.”

“I am Kuroko Tetsuya,” Tetsuya says. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Akashi smiles, an expression so open and kind that Tetsuya can feel his blush returning. Not good,  _not good–_

“It would have been unpleasant, if you had hit the sidewalk,” he says. “Not just for your head - you might have been trampled.”

Tetsuya doesn’t say how very accurate that is - even with a spectacular wipe-out like that, most people still wouldn’t notice him. He could’ve easily been walked all over in this kind of crowd.

“Thank you,” he says again, uselessly. His blush is returning, he can feel it. He notices a coffee-shop out of the corner of his eye and inspiration hits. “Can I buy you a coffee? To repay you?”

Akashi’s eyes widen, just a little and Tetsuya panics, thinking that he’s going to say no, but Akashi just smiles a little and says, “If you don’t mind the imposition…?”

* * *

Seijuurou surveys the boy who literally fell into his arms over his cup of steaming americano. Kuroko Tetsuya isn’t much to look at, at first - Seijuurou won’t admit it, but Kuroko fell into his arms more by chance than circumstance. He’d been busy going over Rakuzan’s last game in his head and then all of the sudden there was a body hurtling toward him - Seijuurou had reacted on pure instinct, catching Kuroko around the waist and shoulders. For someone so small, Kuroko is surprisingly heavy.

But even if he hadn’t been distracted, Seijuurou’s not sure he would have noticed Kuroko. He has the smallest presence Seijuurou’s ever seen in a person, and his features are plain, nondescript. Except for the eyes - there’s something in them that reminds Seijuurou of opponents he meets sometimes on the court, the ones who play with their whole breath and body until the very end, no matter the point difference, no matter the cost. It’s odd for such a normal boy to have eyes like that.

“Thank you again,” Kuroko says. “It would have been a nasty fall.”

He wonders if Kuroko realizes he’s blushing. Seijuurou’s no stranger to this sort of thing; ever since his early middle school years, he’s always had girls following him around in some form or another, and they blush in almost the exact same way when Seijuurou gives them a kind word or a smile. He’s had his fair share of boys like that too - Rakuzan is a single-sex school, after all, and there has been more than one boy who tries to use Seijuurou’s height and weight against him. Of course, they’ve all learned better by now.

“I hope the book is worth it,” Seijuurou says, allowing his smile to widen. Kuroko’s blush deepens. Seijuurou’s smile gains some warmth - even Mibuchi, he thinks, would like Kuroko like this; nervous, flushed, smiling just a little. “Do you go to school here, Kuroko-kun?”

Kuroko hesitates. “I do,” he says. “I attend Teikou Middle School.”

Seijuurou freezes. Teikou… is the home of the Generation of Miracles, isn’t it? The upstart middle schoolers who’ve won two national championship so far and are well on their way to their third one. Seijuurou never played them in middle school through circumstance, but he knows them just as every other player their age group does. He thinks of the look in Kuroko’s eyes and he shivers a little. Could it be…?

“Oh?” he says with affected nonchalance. “I’ve heard their basketball team is quite good.”

Kuroko’s face, before so expressive and readable, smooths out in an impressively quick amount of time. One moment, Seijuurou’s watching a normal teenage boy, and the next…

How  _interesting_.

“Yes,” Kuroko says. “Do you play basketball, Akashi-kun?”

“I do,” Seijuurou says, fascinated by the way Kuroko’s face reveals absolutely nothing. “With Rakuzan, in Kyoto.”

“Ah, the oldest and strongest king,” Kuroko says. “I heard you are participating in the Winter Cup again this year. Good luck.”

“You must play basketball as well, then, Kuroko-kun,” Seijuurou says. “Are you on Teikou’s team?”

Kuroko hesitates. Seijuurou can’t read him as well as before, when Kuroko wasn’t actively trying to keep his calm, but there’s still a flicker of movement around the eyes and a tenseness to the mouth that suggests Kuroko is uneasy.

“Yes,” he admits, finally. “I play on first string.”

Seijuurou doesn’t have to fake his surprise - he thought the boy might be on the team, but! He eyes Kuroko again, but his initial impression doesn’t seem wrong - this is a person with little athletic talent, small strength, no obvious abilities whatsoever except for his talent at passing unseen… And this is a boy who plays with the Generation of Miracles?

“You must know them, then,” Seijuurou says, propping his chin up with his hand. “The ones they call the Generation of Miracles.”

Kuroko smiles a little, something about him relaxing. “Yes, they’re my teammates. They’re as amazing as the rumors say, but they’re all very… strange.”

“Oh? How so?”

Kuroko actually has to think about it, as if his teammates have so many strange qualities that choosing just one is hard.

“Well, Midorima-kun is avid about the zodiac,” he says. “He even brings in his sign’s lucky item every day, and to games. And Kise-kun is more like a giant puppy than a human being. And Murasakibara-kun is the laziest person I’ve ever met - he likes to eat more than anything else.”

Seijuurou smiles. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to be their captain.”

Kuroko’s eyes gain a sort of mischief. “Oh, he keeps us all well in line. He learned during his first year that the best way to herd them was to make them all fear him as much as possible.”

“ _Fear_  him–?”

“Yes. Morons only react to fear, you know.”

Seijuurou laughs before he can stop himself and blinks. Kuroko, when he looks over, seems pleased.

“Are you on first string at Rakuzan, Akashi-kun?” he asks. 

“I am the captain,” Seijuurou says, partly to see what Kuroko will do.

Kuroko’s eyes widen. “Oh! I hadn’t thought you were much older than me. I’m a third year at Teikou.”

“And I’m a first year at Rakuzan, so you were correct,” Seijuurou says. “But I was captain of my middle school team as well, and our coach recognized my abilities.”

“That’s very impressive, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko says. There’s isn’t any envy in his voice, Seijuurou notices, intrigued. Most people are envious when he tells them about his status, especially basketball players. “I’m sure you’ll lead your team well.”

“Will you come and watch the Winter Cup?” Seijuurou asks. “It’s being held in Tokyo.”

“I think we all will,” Kuroko says. “Aomine-kun likes to watch the high school teams play. He says it gives him hope that basketball won’t get boring once we leave Teikou.”

Seijuurou’s heard that name before. Aomine Daiki, huh? He’s one of the brightest stars at Teikou, one that even the high school players have come to dread. It’s a little odd, to think of someone as innocuous as Kuroko on the same court as Aomine.

“I would love to come see a game of yours, Kuroko-kun,” Seijuurou says. “Saa, maybe I could visit Teikou someday. It was nearly where I went to middle school, you know.”

Kuroko perks up with interest. “Oh?” he asks. “Akashi-kun nearly went to Teikou?”

“My father was going to change companies right before I started middle school,” Seijuurou says. “He changed his mind at the last minute, so we never moved. If we had, I would’ve been at Teikou as well. Probably your teammate, Kuroko-kun. Isn’t the world a funny place?”

Kuroko’s silent for a long time. Seijuurou watches his face, but he’s good at keeping his features under control when he concentrates on it - he’s much harder to read than all of Seijuurou’s teammates. Perhaps the only person Seijuurou’s met who has better control is Imayoshi. And Seijuurou himself, of course.

“It would have been a very different experience,” Kuroko says finally. In his pocket, his cell phone dings - he takes it out to check and sighs. “I have to go, Akashi-kun. My teammate is asking for help finding something - he just moved back from America, you see.”

“Oh?” Akashi asks. “That wouldn’t be Kagami Taiga-kun, would it? I’ve heard about him as well.”

“He was a helpful addition last year during nationals,” Kuroko says. “He’s not quite as polished as the others, but he’ll get there, soon enough.”

“Isn’t he a year younger?” 

“Oh, yes. He’ll be the one to lead the team when we’re gone, I expect.”

Seijuurou watches Kuroko’s calm, proud expression, considers their conversation, and takes a calculated risk. “He’ll take after you, then?”

Kuroko’s open astonishment makes Seijuurou smile - after a moment, Kuroko smiles too.

“Ah, you guessed,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you would. Akashi-kun is very observant.”

They stand. Seijuurou watches Kuroko fiddle with his bag and drags out his own cell phone. “Could I get your number, Kuroko-kun?”

He watches, gently amused, as Kuroko goes red again. “My number?”

“Yes. I’d like to come and visit Teikou, as I said. And I’d love to speak with the captain of the brightest middle school team in Tokyo on a regular basis.”

Kuroko’s chin goes up a little and his eyes glitter. “Brightest middle school team in  _Japan_ , Akashi-kun.”

Seijuurou laughs. “Ah, of course.”

Kuroko takes Seijuurou’s phone and taps in his number. “We’ll all come to the Winter Cup, as I said. Perhaps I’ll see you there.”

Seijuurou looks at Kuroko’s digits in his phone, traces out the kanji of  _Tetsuya_ , and smiles. “I’d like that, Kuroko-kun. Maybe we can share the story of how we met - after all, it’s not every day the captain of the greatest team in  _Japan_  falls into my arms out of nowhere, is it?”

Seijuurou laughs as Kuroko’s blush returns and leaves him there in the coffee-shop.  _Kuroko Tetsuya, huh_? he thinks. He tosses his phone from one hand to the other and decides he’ll have to use that number soon.


	6. summer cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 6: "I thought only idiots got summer colds?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set after the winter cup, in the indeterminate future. some spoilers for the end of the manga/rakuzan match. written for the sixth day of akakuro week, under the prompt ‘domesticity’ which i took as an excuse to write shameless, shameless fluff.

Seijuurou taps a finger impatiently against the cool porcelain of his tea cup - a bad habit that came back after his shift during the Winter Cup. He’s tried to wean himself off of it, but finds that whenever he’s impatient or nervous, it’ll come back out again. The old Seijuurou - the one that found any minor flaw unacceptable - probably would have been more angry about it, but Seijuurou finds himself resigned instead of irritated. 

Tetsuya’s late.

When he was captain of Teikou, Seijuurou found managing the Generation of Miracles was more akin to herding a bunch of toddlers along a straight line. Tetsuya was really the only one he could trust to stay moderately level-headed - even Shintarou, his second in command, had his moments of oddness. Tetsuya, perhaps out of the necessity of being Daiki’s best friend, had a cool head and practical nature that made him very dependable and a sort of oasis in the chaos that was the Teikou first string. 

In any case, that dependability meant that Tetsuya was rarely late; he showed up to school and practices and late-night meet-ups on time, usually. So why is he - Seijuurou checks his watch - twenty minutes overdue for their meeting?

Seijuurou stifles the immediate anxiety that Tetsuya has decided meeting with Seijuurou isn’t worth it; after all, this is only the third time they’ve seen each other since the Winter Cup. Seijuurou’s the one who asked Tetsuya the last two times, after Tetsuya ambushed him at Rakuzan and politely demanded to be let back into Seijuurou’s life in the way only Tetsuya could manage. They met for coffee before too and talked about everything except basketball. Seijuurou won’t admit it, because even his old self doesn’t like to admit weakness, but it was nice, to sit and chat with Tetsuya. 

The coffee-shop’s door opens and Seijuurou’s head swivels. He starts to smile when he sees a familiar head of hair, only to stop short as Tetsuya comes into full view. He’s out of his seat before he realizes he’s moving.

“Tetsuya?” he asks, grasping Tetsuya by the elbow. “What happened to you?”

Tetsuya looks like death warmed over - pale even for him, with purple bruises under his eyes and a nose gone chapped and bright red. His eyes are dull, listless, and Seijuurou can feel the fine shiver in his body now that he’s close enough. And though the day is mild, he’s dressed in at least four layers.

“Akashi-kun…?” Tetsuya says. “I’m– I’m late. Sorry.”

Tetsuya’s voice is so hoarse it’s a miracle he can speak. Seijuurou takes in every pathetic, miserable inch of him and sighs. 

“I thought only idiots got summer colds?”

Tetsuya doesn’t seem to hear him at first - then, with exaggerated slowness, he swings his head around to stare at Seijuurou with wide eyes.

“I must have a fever,” he says. “Because I could have sworn that was a joke, Akashi-kun.”

Seijuurou bites in the inside of his cheek. “Why didn’t you just call me?” he asks. “We could’ve rescheduled. You should be in bed.”

“But I barely get to see Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya says. “And you call so rarely…”

Seijuurou ignores the warmth in his chest and considers their options. Clearly, staying in the coffee-shop is unacceptable - Tetsuya will probably spread his germs to the other patrons and sitting in a hard chair isn’t going to do anything for Tetsuya’s health. 

“Is your house nearby?” Seijuurou asks.

Tetsuya stiffens. “…Yes.”

“We’ll stop by the pharmacy on the way,” Seijuurou decides. “And I’ll walk with you to make sure you make it home alright.”

There had been an accident during their second year of middle school, before everything fell apart. Tetsuya had been hit by a car as he crossed a street without a crosswalk - the driver simply hadn’t seen him. Seijuurou can still remember getting the increasingly frantic texts from Shintarou, who had heard the news from Daiki - Tetsuya had had to go to the hospital, though he’d come out of the encounter with only a minor concussion. After that, all of them had been careful to walk with Tetsuya wherever he needed to go, especially if the streets weren’t littered with stop signs or lights. 

Seijuurou wonders, slightly pained, who walks with Tetsuya now. 

“You don’t need to do that, Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya says. “I can make it home alright. It’s only a few blocks away. And we have medicine already…”

“I’m coming with you,” Seijuurou says. For his own peace of mind, if nothing else - Tetsuya looks like a strong wind could blow him over. “Let me get my bag.”

He leaves Tetsuya to collect his things and takes a moment to text Shintarou. _What medicines are the best for colds or sore throats?_ Shintarou, the son of a prestigious doctor and determined to follow that path as well, has always been their resident expert on all things medical, and Seijuurou hasn’t had a nasty cold in a long time. 

Seijuurou can also admit that he’s looking forward to the amusement Shintarou will bring when he learns that it’s Tetsuya with the cold. Even though Shintarou and Tetsuya were hardly best friends, Shintarou looked after them all with the ferocity of a mother cat and her kittens; even Daiki, when he had gotten the flu in their first year, had been subject to Shintarou’s care. Tetsuya, as the weakest and smallest member of their team, had been looked after by all of them, but Seijuurou thinks Shintarou sometimes did so with unexpected zeal.

 _Are you sick?_  Shintarou texts back as Seijuurou and Tetsuya leave the coffee-shop. Seijuurou uses one hand to text back - it speaks to how dazed Tetsuya is, that he doesn’t ask who Seijuurou is talking to.

_No, Tetsuya is._

In the long pause between texts, Seijuurou and Tetsuya make it to the nearest pharmacy. Seijuurou’s perusing the cold medicine when his phone dings again.

_Get him something to sleep on. And a lot of green tea, honey, and orange juice. His recovery will come more quickly if he drinks a lot of liquids and sleeps soundly. If he still feels poorly in the morning or his condition worsens, let me know._

Seijuurou collects a cold medicine that promises a full night’s sleep and his phone dings again. He frowns, but this one is from Ryouta, not Shintarou.

 _is kurokocchi sick???? midorimocchi started freaking out in the middle of our practice match!!_ There’s some sort of emoji after that, but Seijuurou has no idea what it’s meant to symbolize. d _on’t listen to what he says, HUGS are the best medicine. hug kurokocchi for me!!!!! and tell him to feel better before next week, we’ve got a match and it’s no fun if he doesn’t play!!!!_

Seijuurou’s in the middle of grabbing juice when his phone dings again.

_if you don’t look after tetsu, i’ll sic satsuki on you._

Seijuurou smiles down at his phone. Shintarou really is a bit of a gossip, isn’t he? Though it might’ve been Ryouta who told Daiki - Shintarou got worried about them in his own anxious, terse way, but Ryouta tended to be loud and melodramatic when he was concerned.

“The others wish you well,” Seijuurou says when he finishes paying and returns to Tetsuya, who has spent the past ten minutes standing near the entrance, looking a little lost.

“The… others?” Tetsuya asks. He doesn’t protest as Seijuurou takes his elbow in his free hand, which is sign enough that he’s not feeling well.

“Our old teammates,” Seijuurou says. “Well, except for Atsushi, but he would, if he knew you were ill.”

Tetsuya gives him a look of disbelief. “You told them?”

“I asked Shintarou for advice,” Seijuurou admits. “He seemed firm on the fact that you need sleep and fluids to recover - which, of course, you would’ve had if you hadn’t dragged yourself out of bed to come see me.”

“We had a date,” Tetsuya says. Seijuurou’s heart flutters, but Tetsuya flushes immediately and says, “I mean - we were meeting. Going to see each other. I didn’t - I didn’t want to cancel on Akashi-kun.”

Seijuurou sternly tells his rebellious body to calm down. “I suppose it worked out in the end,” he says. “This way I can keep an eye on you and make sure you follow the doctor’s orders.”

“…Midorima-kun isn’t a doctor.”

To their team, he might as well be. “He will be in the future,” Seijuurou says. “Now, where’s your house?”

Tetsuya tenses again, though Seijuurou isn’t sure why. “Just down this block. But you don’t have to come home with me, Akashi-kun–”

“Nonsense,” Seijuurou says, and starts them at a brisk walk. “Lead the way, Tetsuya.”

* * *

Tetsuya’s house is bigger than Seijuurou expects - at least three levels, which is odd in the middle of Tokyo. It’s a nice place too - nothing is rotting or peeling, everything looks clean and well-kept. There’s even windowsill gardens under every window. 

“Your parents must have well-paying jobs,” Seijuurou says as Tetsuya leads them to the front door.

He hadn’t guessed that about Tetsuya; everything about the boy is so unassuming that he seems to be of middle-class. 

“They work with international companies, so they travel a lot,” Tetsuya says. Seijuurou frowns at his tone - rehearsed, as if he’s had to say it to one too many people before. “They aren’t home at the moment.”

“Who lives with you in their absence?” Seijuurou asks. 

Tetsuya hesitates in the midst of pulling out his keys. “My grandmother used to,” he says as he finally unlocks the door. “But she died when I was eleven.”

Seijuurou frowns. “Were you already at Teikou?”

“It was just before I entered,” Tetsuya admits. 

The house inside is every bit as neat and polished as the outside, but Seijuurou has an eye for these kinds of things - he can tell that it’s a cold place to live, devoid of any sort of warmth. There’s a lot of modern art on the wall, which might’ve served to make it cozy if everything else wasn’t so bare. 

“Does another family member live with you now?”

Tetsuya sets down his keys. “My parents decided I was old enough to take care of myself when they were gone on trips,” he says. “They haven’t been home in two months, this time.”

Seijuurou frowns.  _He_  knows what it’s like to be left alone constantly - his own parents are usually at work, after all, and Seijuurou hasn’t seen them for an extended period of time for years. But it seems strange that warm, practical, friendly Tetsuya can be in the same situation. Tetsuya’s face has an odd cast to it, when Seijuurou looks over - half-desperate, half-anxious, as if he expects to be interrogated about his family situation and doesn’t want to deal with it. Seijuurou decides to be kind and spares him the discomfort. 

“You should get to bed,” Seijuurou decides. “Where’s your room?”

Tetsuya blinks, caught off-guard. “This way,” he says, leading Seijuurou upstairs.

The house really is too big, even for three people; there’s more than enough rooms for a large family. To think of Tetsuya living it alone makes Seijuurou surprisingly angry.

Tetsuya’s room is as neat and tidy as the rest of the house, but considerably warmer; there are basketball posters on the wall, sheets of homework strewn across the desk along with what is probably Seirin’s playbook, several old mystery-thrillers piled on the bedside table… It’s the only room so far that looks like it’s actually been lived in. 

“Get changed into your pajamas, Tetsuya,” Seijuurou says, as he sets aside the bag from the pharmacy. “I’ll prepare the medicine for you and get you settled before I leave.”

Seijuurou doesn’t really intend to leave right away - it’s summer, after all, and he doesn’t have school. Rakuzan trains even in the summer months, but his team won’t expect him back for a couple of days, at least. Tetsuya may not want him to stay over, but Seijuurou’s determined to at least make sure Tetsuya’s comfortable and heading toward recovery before he leaves him alone again.

Tetsuya gathers his clothes and, with a look at Seijuurou, disappears into an adjoining room that must be his bathroom. Seijuurou resolutely doesn’t think of Tetsuya changing and instead busies himself with unpacking his purchases and going downstairs to locate some cups. By the time he comes back to Tetsuya’s room, Tetsuya has already changed and sits on top of his rumpled bed covers. In flannel pants and a too-large shirt, Tetsuya looks younger.

“Is that yours?” Seijuurou asks as he hands Tetsuya a cup full of orange juice. “Drink the entire thing. But slowly.”

Tetsuya takes a sip. “It’s Kagami-kun’s,” he says. He continues, apparently oblivious to the sudden blind rage that Seijuurou’s experiencing, “He left it here the last night he stayed too late studying. That idiot was nearly going to fail all his exams before I reminded him he needed to do well to stay on the team.”

Seijuurou tries to carefully sidestep the inexplicable anger. “Does he stay over often?”

Tetsuya blinks up at him. “Not usually.” Before Seijuurou can breathe a sigh of relief, he adds, “I stay at his place more often. Kagami-kun says my house gives him the ‘creeps.’”

What is the polite way to ask someone if they’re sleeping with their partner and teammate? Seijuurou wouldn’t know - he’s never been interested enough in his teammate’s personal lives to want to ask.

“Are you and he…?” 

Tetsuya chokes on his sip of orange juice. “ _Kagami-kun_?” he asks, and his obvious shock is enough to make Seijuurou relax. “You think–? Kagami-kun is my dear friend and partner, but I don’t think I could handle having him as a boyfriend on top of all that.” He shudders a little. “Paying for dates would start to get expensive and it’s already enough being Kagami-kun’s babysitter on the court.”

“I see,” Seijuurou says, and hopes it masks his relief. “I suppose that means the rumor about you and Daiki was similarly unfounded, then.”

“Yes,” Tetsuya says with such fervor that Seijuurou smiles. “I love to play basketball with him and he is my friend, but that… is all I can handle from either of them.” Tetsuya takes another gulp of the orange juice, then smiles. “Besides, I think they rather like each other, don’t you?”

Seijuurou considers it. “Well, at least they’ll be each other’s problem,” he says. 

Tetsuya has never laughed much, so to hear it again is a blessing. Seijuurou’s entire chest suffuses with warmth - to keep it from showing, he busies himself with the medicine that he’d forgotten in their conversation.

“This should help you sleep soundly throughout the night,” he says, offering the small glass to Tetsuya, who has finished his orange juice. 

“It’s barely dark, Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya says, looking at the dark blue liquid with a grimace. “We so rarely get to see each other…”

“If you don’t mind, I can stay,” Seijuurou says, and then nearly bites his tongue in consternation. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Tetsuya visibly brightens. “Oh! Oh, but I’m sick. You can’t stay with me like this, I’ll get you–”

“I have a good immune system,” Seijuurou says. He hesitates, looks at the open door to the empty hallway beyond. “Besides,” he says, softer. “You can’t be here like this by yourself.”

When he looks back, he sees Tetsuya watching him like he’s never seen Seijuurou before. If Seijuurou were less in control of himself, he might blush. As it is, he hands over the medicine silently and Tetsuya, after another moment of hesitation, drinks it. Tetsuya sets the cups aside.

“Lie down,” Seijuurou urges and Tetsuya follows his instructions without question - another sign of illness. 

Tetsuya pulls his covers up to his chin and surveys Seijuurou sleepily. In the half-light of the room, the shadows under his eyes are more pronounced, but his pallor seems better. Perhaps the juice helped after all. Seijuurou will have to remember to thank Shintarou. 

“Go to sleep, Tetsuya,” Seijuurou says.

He’s unable to stop himself from reaching over to smooth Tetsuya’s bangs over his forehead. Tetsuya closes his eyes at the touch, sighing, and Seijuurou’s heart tightens in his chest. It’s odd to think that he could have lost this forever - Tetsuya’s pure trust in him. He didn’t realize the gift he had back at Teikou, that this boy admired him and followed him. Seijuurou doesn’t intend to forget a second time.

“Are you really going to stay…?” Tetsuya asks, more whisper than words.

Seijuurou pets Tetsuya’s hair again, smiling when Tetsuya buts up into his hand like a dog seeking attention. 

“As long as you need,” he says.

He waits until he’s sure Tetsuya’s fully asleep to brush a chaste kiss over his forehead.  _Feel better_ , he thinks, and goes downstairs to prepare some dinner for when Tetsuya wakes again.


	7. the unknown element

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 7: the obligatory hp!au where everyone plays quidditch instead of basketball. tetsuya’s life is pretty normal for someone who attends a magic school - until akashi seijuurou takes notice of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some characters were unsuitably sorted to put them all on one team (*coughcough*aomine*coughcough*). i realize hogwarts is a british school, so the names should be changed around, but it felt really weird to write them like that. let’s all pretend that nobody finds it weird & w/e. also keeping the nicknames (murasakibara’s -chin and kise’s -kocchi) bc it also felt weird not to. hp canon is like… thirty or s/t years after voldemort. hp & co are still around but they aren’t in this fic. written for ‘alternate universe’ prompt for akakuro week. it’s the LAST DAY thank you all for reading my dumb drabbles all week.

Tetsuya looks up from his essay on the properties of the Draught of Living Death when he hears giggling; a few tables over, some Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls have their heads bent together, whispering about something. They keep shooting looks across the library, which Tetsuya follows to find, of all people, Akashi Seijuurou. 

Slytherin’s fifth-year prefect, captain and keeper of the Slytherin quidditch team, brilliant student and talented athlete… There’s a reason the girls flock to him and eye him up in the library. Tetsuya’s never really spoken with Akashi himself, but he does seem to be a good enough guy - most of the times when Tetsuya passes him in the halls, he’s soft-spoken, polite, kind. Some of the Gryffindors - the last ones to let go of old house prejudices - even mutter how they don’t know how he’s even a Slytherin, the highest praise they can offer Slytherins. 

Tetsuya slips his books and parchments away. There won’t be any studying while Akashi’s fans are in vicinity - he doesn’t mind them in other parts of the school, but he does wish they could contain themselves while in the library.

He stands and shoulders his bag, crossing the library to get to the main doors. His mind is preoccupied, planning out what he’ll need to do when he gets back to the dorms to finish his homework before dinner, and that’s probably why he doesn’t notice the person heading his way until he bumps into them. They’re so tall and broad that Tetsuya would’ve bounced off of them and landed on the floor if they hadn’t caught him around the elbows, the sort of quick reflexes that can only belong to a talented athlete. 

Tetsuya looks up. And up.

“Oh…?” Murasakibara says, peering down at him. “Are you a first year?”

Tetsuya frowns. “Fifth year,” he says. Why does he always get that question?

Murasakibara’s surprise isn’t flattering. “But you’re so small!” He reaches out and ruffles Tetsuya’s hair - Tetsuya bats his hand away and smoothes down his bangs with irritation. He’s not a  _kid_. 

“Atsushi.”

Tetsuya stiffens at that smooth voice. He turns his head to see Akashi surveying them, eyes calm and still as lakes. 

“Look, Aka-chin,” Murasakibara says, dragging Tetsuya with him to Akashi’s table. “A puny fifth year. Can I crush him?”

Tetsuya stiffens, prepared to whip out his wand at any moment, but Akashi shakes his head.

“No,” he says. He meets Tetsuya’s eyes. “And who are you?”

Tetsuya has no clue what’s going on. “Kuroko Tetsuya,” he says. “Fifth year.”

Akashi’s eyebrows go up. “Your house?”

Tetsuya can feel his expression going flat. He’s well aware of how unnoticeable he is, but sometimes it’s a little depressing to have it shoved in his face like this.

“Slytherin.” [1]

There’s a long pause. Tetsuya feels a little triumphant in making the infamous Akashi Seijuurou take pause, because Akashi always seems to be at least ten steps ahead of everyone else, to the point where nothing seems to faze him. But Akashi is clearly flummoxed now - if Akashi were the type to let his jaw drop, it’d be on the ground.

“Kuro-chin’s in our year and house?” Murasakibara says, reaching out to ruffle Tetsuya’s hair again. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Tetsuya dodges Murasakibara’s hand. “Most people don’t see me,” he says. “And I don’t room with you.”

Due to their large, labyrinth-like dorms, Slytherins are usually given their own rooms by third year - before that, they double or triple up, but they never have all of their grade in one room like the Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs. [2] Tetsuya’s lived on his own since his second year and, other than classes, he doesn’t interact with his classmates much - especially not the godly five who make up their quidditch team, the ones that people have quietly been calling the ‘Generation of Miracles.’

He shifts uncomfortably when he realizes Akashi’s  _still_  watching him, like a snake might watch its next meal. Tetsuya’s not used to being noticed, especially by someone like Akashi who is, as much as any Hogwarts student can be, a minor celebrity. 

“You play quidditch,” Akashi says.

Tetsuya stiffens. “I fly,” he says. “But I’m not interested in playing quidditch.”

He goes out to the pitch when he can’t sleep and flies in circles and dives until his mind clears. Sometimes, if he’s feeling especially restless, he’ll release the fake snitch his grandmother bought for him before she died - it’s slower than a real snitch, but mimics its movements enough to be a good replacement. Following its movements to catch it clears Tetsuya’s head in a way that nothing else can. But he’s always been terrible at sports, so even though he enjoys watching quidditch and knows the game well, he’s never tried out for the team. What could he offer to a team like his, anyway?

“That’s a lie,” Akashi says. “Come to the pitch tonight. Seven o’clock.”

Tetsuya’s brow furrows. Everyone in Slytherin knows that the team practices every night at seven. What is Akashi playing at?

“I’m not interested in–”

“Yes, you are,” Akashi says, turning away finally. “Be at the pitch.”

Murasakibara turns away too and Tetsuya is left to stare at the pair of them. Neither looks up to acknowledge him as he turns and  leaves the library. He’s less angry and more confused. He’s never really played quidditch before, not even as a kid - most kids his age skipped over him for that sort of thing - but he loves to fly. Honestly, he’d always rather thought that making it a sport would ruin the flying aspect.

Tetsuya shakes his head and collects his thoughts, straightening his shoulders. Akashi Seijuurou may be the Emperor of Slytherin, but that doesn’t mean Tetsuya has to listen to his commands. He’s definitely  _not_  going to go down to the pitch tonight.

* * *

 

Tetsuya goes down to the pitch.

He spends the hour leading up to seven getting increasingly anxious and flustered, glancing up from his homework every three seconds to check the clock only to find no time had passed. With every minute that passes, he starts to think -  _would it really be so bad?_  and  _maybe it could be fun_  and  _what’s the harm?_  and before he knows it, he’s grabbing his cloak and broom and hurrying out his door.

Akashi probably used some sort of charm on him. Tetsuya can’t explain his own behavior otherwise.

He gets there with five minutes to spare, but there are already figures in the air. Tetsuya watches, a little breathless, as Kise, Aomine, and Akashi execute a beautiful team-play, tossing the Quaffle between them until it’s just a blur of red. They still don’t make it past Murasakibara, though, because even though he sits at the goalpost nonchalantly, all Murasakibara has to do is stretch a little and the goal is blocked. It pays to be tall, Tetsuya thinks with some envy. 

Midorima and Takao [3] sit on the sidelines, watching the play. Midorima tosses his beater’s bat from hand to hand, as if trying to warm up his fingers. 

Tetsuya stands down there, watching them. Should he call up? Most people don’t notice him unless he speaks to them directly…

Akashi glances down as he and the other chasers fly back into position - for a moment, his gaze skitters over Tetsuya before they finally settle on him. Akashi has the gall to look completely unsurprised to see Tetsuya there and Tetsuya does his best not to let his own annoyance show. Maybe he  _shouldn’t_  have come–

“Break!” Akashi calls. “Players to the ground.”

“But  _Akashicchi_  we barely got started–!”

“it’s only been like ten minutes, what the hell do we need a break for–”

The players settle down on the ground directly in front of Tetsuya, still squabbling amongst themselves. To Tetsuya’s surprise, Takao glances over at him, but the others don’t seem to notice that he’s there. Akashi gives Tetsuya a look that’s plainly inquisitive and, to Tetsuya’s surprise, a little mischievous - he tilts his head as if to say,  _what do you want to do to them?_

Well. Tetsuya isn’t a prankster like Kagami, but he does need to find amusement where he can.

“Hello,” he says and watches as most of the rising stars of quidditch jump out of their skin. “I am Kuroko.”

Stunned silence.

“Who–!” Kise screeches, pointing an accusing finger at Tetsuya.

“What the hell,” Aomine says, blank with shock.

Midorima pushes his glasses up and Takao cackles behind his back. “That was a good one,” he says. He was the only one other than Akashi who didn’t jump.

Akashi moves to Tetsuya’s side. “This is Kuroko Tetsuya,” he says. “He will be our new seeker starting today.”

Tetsuya freezes. “I don’t remember agreeing to that, Akashi,” he says, with the same false-polite frostiness that his mother uses when she’s angry. “In fact, one could say… that you have made the decision for me. That’s not very polite.”

Tetsuya thinks the sudden, tense silence that follows his statement is a little melodramatic - surely they can’t expect him to simply fall in line with Akashi’s little plan?

Takao’s cackling again. He comes up to Tetsuya’s other side and throws an arm around his shoulders. 

“I like him,” he says to Akashi. “It was getting boring, being the only one to keep you geniuses in line.” He leans in to mock-whisper in Tetsuya’s ear, “They’re a handful, you know.”

“I’m beginning to realize,” Tetsuya says and Takao laughs.

“Tetsuya,” Akashi says, and Tetsuya tries to remember if he ever gave Akashi permission to use his first name, “you would be a benefit to our team.”

“You haven’t even seen me fly,” Tetsuya counters, eyebrows raising. “I’ll tell you now; I’m nowhere as good as any of you. I fly for fun.”

“Akashi, is he really the one you want–”

“This isn’t about pure ability,” Akashi says, cutting Midorima off. “What you have is a different sort of skill. Tell me, has anyone ever noticed you without you speaking to them first?”

Tetsuya frowns. “Takao just did,” he admits and Takao throws up a v-sign. “But other than him… Not very many people, no.”

“That sort of lack of presence could be useful for a player who needs to maneuver around the game unseen,” Akashi says, as much for his teammates benefits as Tetsuya’s. “Seekers get followed by the other team’s seeker, or become targets for the beaters… Tetsuya’s ability to disappear could dramatically reduce that. And,” Akashi turns to face Tetsuya directly, “I _have_  seen you on a broom.”

Tetsuya pales.  _When_ –?

“Get on your broom,” Akashi orders. “I’ll release the snitch and make you a deal - if you can’t catch it within a minute, I’ll give up on you being our team seeker.”

There’s some disbelieving noises from Akashi’s team, but Tetsuya only has eyes for Akashi’s stern-eyed visage. He has to know what he’s saying is impossible. Even Harry Potter himself couldn’t catch a snitch that fast. But Akashi is saying it without any mockery or derision - he seems to honestly believe that Tetsuya can do this, if he puts his mind to it. And he’s seen Tetsuya fly.

Tetsuya’s hand tightens around the handle of his broom. “Alright,” he says. “But I  _did_  warn you.”

“Akashi, is this really–”

“Kuroko, there’s no way–”

“We could be  _playing_  right now–”

Akashi waves a hand and silences his teammates cries. Takao mutters into Tetsuya’s ear, “Honestly, it’s much less of a hassle to not be on the team,” but he ruffles Tetsuya’s hair as he withdraws and gives him a wink.

Tetsuya smooths down his hair and wonders at the warmth rising in his chest. Nobody’s ever believed in him before, he thinks. It’s a bit odd.

“Get ready, Tetsuya,” Akashi says as he kneels by the box with the quidditch balls. 

Inside its small case, the snitch flutters wildly, desperate for escape. Tetsuya mounts his broom and takes a deep, slow breath, gathering his calm. If he can’t do it, it’s hardly any skin off his back. But if he can… His eyes drift to where Akashi kneels. Well, if he can, that’d be something, wouldn’t it?

Akashi releases the snitch. Tetsuya’s in the air before he can form a thought, eyes on that tiny golden ball. It’s a tricky, wild thing, but Tetsuya can follow it - he dives down at it from odd angles, choosing the strangest trajectory in order to corner it. Tricky or not, the snitch is just a charmed ball, and it follows certain patterns. Most people would just try and chase it along the same patterns - Tetsuya decides to create new ones.

He touches back down in thirty seconds, snitch clasped tightly in his right fist, breathing hard. There’s complete silence on the pitch.

Then, Kise cheers and Tetsuya finds himself with an armful of boy. “Kurokocchi!” he yells. 

“What the  _fuck_  how did you  _do_  that,” Aomine’s saying over Kise’s shoulder and Midorima looks stunned.

Tetsuya looks until he can find Akashi’s eyes - the pleasure in them leaves him warm and a little flushed.

“Well done, Tetsuya,” Akashi says. “With you on the team, we will surely have our victory.”

Tetsuya sees Akashi smile and is suddenly, fiercely glad that he made the decision to come down to the pitch after all.

* * *

 

Tetsuya takes his time showering after practice, listening to make sure all the others have left before he gets out to dress. He feels like he needs time to process, time his rowdy new teammates probably wouldn’t allow him. To his consternation, he walks out to find Akashi waiting for him, already dressed.

“Akashi,” he says as he pulls on his pants and shirt, trying not to blush. He’s never quite gotten used to changing in front of other people - and it’s weird, to know that Akashi’s watching him right now. “What is it?”

“Our goal is complete victory,” Akashi says. There’s something odd about his voice, but when Tetsuya turns around, his face is as calm and still as ever. His eyes track Tetsuya’s every movement. “That is what we strive for.”

“Isn’t that what all Slytherins strive for?” Tetsuya says. It’s more rhetorical than anything, but Akashi nods. 

“You’ll need extra training,” he says. “But with my help, you’ll be an extraordinary player.”

Tetsuya’s pretty good at keeping his head, but he can feel the blush coming on from hearing that. He’s honestly never met people as willing to believe in him. He has no idea what he’s done to deserve it.

“I don’t know that I can offer anything,” he says. “But I… want to play. So I’ll be your seeker.” He smiles a little. “Although you never made it sound like an offer.”

“It wasn’t one,” Akashi says. Tetsuya twitches. “My will is absolute, Tetsuya - the moment I knew you would aid us, you were going to be our seeker. But I’m pleased you’ve realized it as well.” He eyes Tetsuya. “Are you ready to go? I’ll walk with you.”

Tetsuya huffs and grabs his broom and bag. He has a feeling he might’ve signed up for more than he bargained for, with this. But he can’t quite bring himself to regret it.

 _Complete victory, huh_? He smiles.  _I think I’m good with that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andddddd that's all folks!! 
> 
> originally i was going to have akashi be the seeker & kuroko be the chaser with the odd way of passing. but i like kuroko as seeker, so i changed it around. in any case, they go on to win the house cup for the next two years. poor kagami in gryffindor & hyuuga in hufflepuff are decimated. 
> 
> [1] okay kuroko is like the most hufflepuff hufflepuff to exist. but i needed him to be in the same house as akashi & it made a lot more sense to have slytherin!kuroko than hufflepuff!akashi. kuroko is at least ambitious and mildly cunning. but i would like to repeat: kuroko is the MOST hufflepuff hufflepuff.  
> [2] this is not the actual layout of the slytherin dorms & i’m pretty sure they do room communally. but it seemed like a bit of a stretch that no one in slytherin would notice kuroko if they roomed with him for five years so…  
> [3] i couldn’t make kagami a slytherin, even though he would’ve been the obvious choice to round out the team. he’s so absolutely NOT a slytherin, even with the ambition. takao made a good fit, esp since he’s the other half of the beater team w/ midorima.


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